Polite Society
by Miss Poison Pen
Summary: In polite society, one usually phones ahead before trespassing... Or: The one where Jarvis does Peggy and Angie's laundry and gets a bit of a shock.


V1.01

 _An ideal butler provides service without being asked._

Edwin Jarvis was regretting that philosophy to his fullest capability in that moment. He stood, frozen, before the washing machine at Howard Stark's penthouse estate. The estate where one Peggy Carter and one Angie Martinelli were residing. Where the two women were—obviously, if the evidence in his hand was anything to go by—quite intimately involved.

Edwin dared a glance at the item pinched between his fingers once more. His cheeks flamed an impressive red, nearly matching the smudges on the knickers in his hand.

He had hoped, initially, that it was merely a mishap of an unexpected _Ladies' Time_.

 _Ladies' Time, indeed…_ he thought, recognizing how foolish that line of thinking had been. Had that been the case, the smudges would have darkened from exposure to the air.

And been…not quite so lip-shaped.

Nor outlining several spots that were surely dried saliva or…something else…

He tossed the garment aside as if it had burned him, and tried valiantly to ignore the images his mind conjured. After all, he had no business thinking of Miss Carter with her head—her lips so boldly red—between Miss Martinelli's thighs.

Instead, he continued on with the laundry, and pointedly ignored the knickers so scandalously stained.

That is…until he came across a brazier of Miss Carter's.

Also stained with lipstick.

And not quite in her own shade.

Right around where the peak of her breast might be…

Again, Edwin stood motionless and unable to stop the assault of rather carnal images involving the two ladies residing in the estate. He certainly hadn't _wanted_ to envision Miss Martinelli with her mouth latched over Miss Carter's brazier-clad breast. Of course he hadn't _meant_ to imagine the absolutely guttural moan Miss Carter would have let out as she threw her head back.

It was just…well, the mind _did_ wander…

And the mind _did_ tend to run with these things…

A door slamming caught his attention, but Edwin was still stuck in place. Voices and footsteps approached his location with talk of getting the laundry in before nightfall, and still he remained paralyzed.

Then the ladies entered the laundry room.

Miss Carter's eyes landed immediately on his face, then the brazier, and finally the knickers. Mortified, her face paled.

Miss Martinelli stood stock-still beside her, face flaming in embarrassment.

Edwin's mouth opened and closed as he attempted to croak out an apology. No words came, unfortunately, and the silence was becoming unbearable.

Then, hysterical laughter broke the silence.

Miss Martinelli, doubled over and clutching her sides, was laughing—cackling, really—so hard, tears streamed down her face. Miss Carter could only look at the woman (her woman, apparently) as if she was taking the piss.

Edwin rather agreed.

Miss Martinelli tried to speak after several moments. Something about "I can't believe…" before another fit of giggles rendered her boneless and she collapsed to the floor.

Miss Carter cleared her throat after that. "Mister Jarvis…" she said severely, a pointed look aimed at the brazier. Quickly, Edwin tossed it towards Miss Martinelli's knickers. "I believe I told you I prefer to do my own laundry."

"Quite right, Miss Carter…" He glanced at the woman still laughing on the floor. "Shan't happen again."

He cleared his throat. The ice in Miss Carter's stare and the accompanying frost in her voice had done nothing for his nerves.

The squeaky huff of "Poor Fancy," met his ears from the woman on the ground who was trying desperately to catch her breath.

"Shall I, uh…" Edwin vaguely gestured towards the door.

"Yes, I think you'd better."

"…And Miss Martinelli?"

Miss Carter's eyes turned to flint. "I'll take care of it," she said, cold and clipped. "Good afternoon, Mister Jarvis."

A nod at her steely tone and clear dismissal. "Of course." He moved to the door. "Miss Carter. Miss Martinelli." When he made it out of the room, he heard Miss Martinelli as she finally managed to catch her breath.

"So much for breaking it to him gently."

"Yes, well…I expect I may have underestimated his endurance for such things."

The small swell of pride Edwin felt at the discreet note of appreciation in Miss Carter's voice was a welcome surprise after the small fiasco. It brought a small smile to his face.

"Still, what a way to find out!" Miss Martinelli chuckled.

 _What a way, indeed,_ Edwin considered, cheeks flaming as he retreated from the estate.


End file.
